


Turnabout

by HSavinien



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Fever, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Language, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-13
Updated: 2010-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-27 22:45:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HSavinien/pseuds/HSavinien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Turnabout is fair play when Bones works himself into the ground.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turnabout

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chef_hector@livejournal.com](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=chef_hector%40livejournal.com).



“I _know_ it's a damned red alert, but get those lights to normal settings and shut the damned sirens off so I can hear myself _think_. I can't concentrate with that wailing in my ears,” Leonard snapped at the chief duty nurse, who collared a bandaged Engineering Ensign and escorted him to the control panel. She slapped the anabolic protoplaser into Leonard's hand on the way back.

“Thanks, Chapel,” he muttered. Frowning, he traced the protoplaser down the ugly purple plasma burn on Ensign Richards's chest. Checking the biobed readings, Leonard assured himself that Richards was out of danger before turning to the grey-faced Science officer with blue blood dripping down her leg, then the concussed Yeoman, then...

***

Twelve hours later, head buzzing slightly with mild stimulants, Leonard slumped in his office, head in his hands. He could almost focus on the casualty list on the PADD in front of him. It blurred, making him blink irritably. His head ached. Slowly, black and red fractals wandered across Leonard's vision. “Well, shit...” he heard himself mutter from far away before everything went dark.

***

“-Bones! _Bones!_ ”

“Shut the fuck up, Jim,” he growled. His head felt like overcooked squash and porcupines and burning, painful death. “Did you spike my drink again?”

Jim laughed, sounding a little strangled.

Leonard opened his eyes and groaned. He was sprawled halfway out of his desk chair. “What the fuck?”

“Seriously, Bones, are you okay?” Jim's hand hovered warm above his shoulder. “I called down here and there was no answer, so I figured you'd just decided to nap on the cot or something because Chapel said you hadn't left. And then I came down and you were basically dead to the world.”

“I was running trauma care for thirteen hours after putting in a ten hour shift,” Leonard muttered, then coughed, his throat scratchy. “Damnit, I still feel like shit.” He pawed vaguely at his tricorder and only succeeded in knocking it to the deck. “Damnit.”

Jim hoisted him out of the chair and walked Leonard over to his cot, then fetched the tricorder and sat on the edge of the bed next to him. “No touchie,” Jim said, batting Leonard's hands away. He ran a few basic scans, then sighed. “You've got a fever and a sore throat, Bones, but nothing worse. Looks like you overdid it.”

“No shit,” Bones mumbled, shifting towards Jim's heat. “Headache too. Grab me some painkillers.”

Jim got up, leaving him cold and shivering a little. Leonard listened, eyes closed, as Jim moved around the room, and relaxed infinitesimally as he sat on the cot again.

“Here you go,” Jim said, sounding weirdly gentle.

There was cool glass against Leonard's forehead. Leonard sat up groggily and took the cup and the two pills Jim handed him and knocked them back, then pressed the empty glass against his temple again, sighing. Jim took it against his protests and left again, returning with a cool, damp cloth that he wiped messily over Leonard's face and neck.

“Gimme that,” Leonard grumbled and made a half-hearted attempt to fold the cloth neatly before draping it over the back of his neck. He sighed and slumped against Jim, who wrapped an arm around him.

Leonard just sat there bonelessly and drifted, trying to soak up the cool from the cloth and the heat from Jim's shoulder at the same time. Jim stroked warm fingers across his lower back. “Get some sleep, okay, Bones?” he said, nuzzling into Leonard's hair. “The bureaucratic shit can wait for a while.”

Leonard mumbled something that was intended to be an affirmative as Jim eased them both down on the cot and curled long limbs around him. He was vaguely aware that his washcloth had slid off and was making a damp spot underneath him, but couldn't be bothered to care.

***

He woke to fingers combing through his hair and a hard cock nudging him companionably in the back. Leonard groaned. “For god's sake, Jim, can't you go jerk off and leave a sick man in peace?”

Jim stroked his forehead. “Glad you're feeling better, Bones. You did good, you know.”

Leonard grunted skeptically.

“You saved everyone who made it to Sickbay,” Jim murmured against the back of his neck, stubble scratching. “Four crew lost. Jarkvit and Butler in Engineering when that coil blew, Kerrree'ssh from gas inhalation, and Alis from spinal damage when _Enterprise_ took a bad hit. All dead before anyone could reach them.” He sounded sad, but whole. “How's your head?”

“Better,” Leonard said slowly. He shifted, a little achey still from the fever. “How long was I out?”

He felt Jim's shrug. “Computer, time.”

“The time is 2100 hours,” the bland voice replied.

“About eleven hours,” Jim said. “You want more water? Food?”

Leonard nodded. “Water. Maybe some bread.” He sat up. “No, no bread. Multivitamin in the water.”

“Okay.” Jim unwrapped himself.

“And then get your ass back in this bed where it belongs.”

Jim chuckled. “Yes sir, Doctor McCoy, sir.”

“Jackass,” Leonard grumbled to himself.

“Love you too, Bones!” Jim stopped at the edge of Leonard's line of sight to stretch theatrically and cup his still half-hard cock.

He was back in a minute with the water and Leonard could taste the pretend-fruity tang of the multivitamin. When he grimaced, Jim handed him a second glass to wash the taste away, then took both cups away.

The cot bounced a little under Jim's returning weight and he looked up. Jim was staring at him with faraway eyes.

“I get it,” he said huskily. “Why you get all snappy and shit when I get hurt. I love you, you know.”

“I know,” Leonard said gruffly, face warm. “Come here, Jim.”


End file.
